In Dreams (I'm Sorry)
by Azathoth333
Summary: A sinful Horror, Tragedy and Romance. it hurts to read.


In Dreams

"I…I…I can't deny it to myself anymore, I simply can't take it, I don't have the willpower…or the impotence" Nick resolved as he sensually, pulled his muscular fingers through his sleek, lush and sexy hair. His Weed Wacker rhythmically swaying in the hot, steamy shower. "I just don't know what to do, and it hurts me, I don't understand, I don't, but I want to, I need to, even if it kills me, he's all I have left. So what? it doesn't matter if he doesn't know me. He will love me, because I love him."

"FUCK" Nick roared … "my KNIFE!... ooooh, my knife, my precious, my life, how could I forget you, the sins, the pain. I deserve it more than ever, I deserve death, the most horrendous and gruesome death imaginable. If there is a god I hope he sends me to the ninth circle of hell, FOR I AM TREACHEROUS! … But alas, death cannot consume me, as I have a destiny to fulfill, or rather, a man."

Nick dashed out of the shower, grabbing his white towel, and ruthlessly ran it over his sexy abs and unparalleled thigh. This stained it with dazzling scarlet tinted blood gushing from lacerations caused by a period of self-intimacy earlier in the day.

Nick dropped the towel, his brilliant thighs, impossibly made more stunning with the fabulous glints from the blood as he walked, naked, to retrieve his knife. With every step, the unbelievably thick muscles in his legs flexed, so spectacularly that Satan himself was gay for Nick.

He stopped. Looking at the wall, the poster the one decoration in his barren room. "oooh what a poster, it may present the man himself, however, no mere poster can display his true beauty," Nick muttered to himself, "No archaic image could possibly hold the depth of emotion held within his royal blue eyes. His feet, legs, ass, arms, all smooth as silk, like the desert had carved away at limestone to reveal the unbreaking and exquisite sapphire underneath. He is the ultimate being, oozing confidence and radiating so brightly that Satan himself cowers in fear of his manhood. Ooh, how luxurious his fingers are, tipped with the most perfect nails that could be created. Compared to him, gods balls are burled" mused Nick as a wicked grin slowly formed on his impeccable jawline.

"Mmm … Thorne".

"it's decided then, let's get it over with, it's worth it a million times to be with him", Nick said to himself after a brief pause.

Nick tore up the room, obliterating his bed, smashing his dresser to pieces, shattered glass covered the floor, dust flew up in miniature tornados, proliferating everywhere. He ferociously tore through what little belongings he had left, throwing them out the window, without even hesitating a second to watch his past, his whole life story, drift away into nothingness. "Anything for him" Nick stated firmly as he removed the last of the chaos from his room, leaving nothing but the poster of him, the post of his god.

Nick retrieved his chalk, the red chalk, and started slowly drawing on the floor. He took his time, because after all, its Thorne, it must be perfect, nothing but perfection for master. After completing the Pentagon and the inscribed star he placed and lit the five candles on the corners, as well as one red on in the middle. With that, he drew a corresponding symbol, Lucifers' symbol, in the center of the ceiling. Finally complete, Nick prepared the necessary sacrifice, vigorously washing his right arm and removing all that taints it with holy water.

"Thorne" I mumbled "Thorne… Thorne, Thorne… please… come…. Come to me, free me from myself. Take me to heaven before I fall into the deepest pits of hell from which I can never escape".

 _Sshhlunck_

With the loss of his right arm, he doesn't have much time left. But that's ok, Nick stood, knife in hand, transfixed by the unearthly charm of the man before him. how could it be, the poster, ripped away the summoning, was raw in his mind, "the perfection before me is something that cannot be described with words" Nick thought.

Thorne stood erect, shoulders wide, head up, captivated by the sight before him. he'd never seen such a specimen. Exquisite, this could be the only beauty that compares to his own. He took a step forward, reached out and grasped Nick, pulled him close. Nicks hand sliding down the small of his back, lower. Thorne couldn't take it anymore, he turned around and felt Nicks dick inside his ass. Nick slowly carved a knife into Thornes back, his knife, his favorite knife, so that it would always be remembered. He kept on going despite feeling faint from blood loss, drawing, and all the while fucking him, Thorne moaned. Nick continued thrusting, Thorne, red with blood, squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that this could be his life as he was bursting with pleasure. This was all he ever wanted, there was nothing better, he was now complete, being filled with Nick. However, like dreams, all good things must come to an end. As Nick died Thorne stood, staring at the now lifeless being on the floor. Blood everywhere, somehow making Nick look even more devilishly handsome. "ironic" Thorne laughed. Then vanished, leaving to savor the events of a lifetime in his home, back in hell.

Nick also went to hell, but as a soul, disconnected from his near perfect body, trapped in the ninth circle, never to find Thorne, never to look on Satan again. Left, with but the simple remember of a blade carved into Satan's back. Once whole, now shattered, a broken dream.


End file.
